Page 40 of Penalty Zone

“Imagine a ’70s free love and rainbows explosion in a storefront. I swear the place hasn’t changed since she opened it. It sticks out.” He grimaces.

“Sometimes the things that make us different are the things that make us special,” I blurt out like some greeting card.

Caleb flops on his back and covers his eyes with his forearm. “You sound like my mom,” he groans.

“That’s… I’ve never been compared to someone’s mom,” I grumble, cursing our age difference.

A laugh bursts out of him, and I want to swallow the sound. “Not something I had on my bingo card for you.”

“What did you have on your bingo card for me?” I ask recklessly. It must be the whiskey making me bold.

“Those are secrets I’ll take to my grave,” he vows, and it becomes a challenge to conquer.

“Then tell me the best thing about growing up with your parents.” The more time we spend together, the more I yearn to know about all things Caleb.

“There was a strong sense of community with the people they helped. We always had guests for dinner, and I learned a lot about other cultures and religions and different ways of thinking. They love me, and I’ve never once doubted that. Even when they would rush off to help other people, I knew they trusted I would be fine, and if I needed them, they would drop everything for me. It was a cool way to grow up. I just got teased and bullied a lot until I hit my growth spurt and became great at hockey.”

“I was very sheltered and only experienced my parents’ set of values. Going into the NHL was a huge culture shock.” I envy his free spirit. “Coming out as bisexual wasn’t an option personally or professionally.” I’m not sure if I’m explaining my past to him or reminding myself.

“It’s terrible to have to deny who you are. That must have been a struggle for you.” He places his hands under his head, the picture of earnestness.

I never thought about it being a struggle or how I was denying a part of myself. It was simply the way things were, and there was no use being upset over it. That was the past, and I’m choosing the same path for my future.

But for the first time, the path seems unnecessary and less certain.

“You and your teammates are brave. I put too much value on what other people think,” I say with shame. I don’t have to specify I’m speaking about their openness regarding their sexuality.

“That makes me sad for you. In the end, the only person who can make you happy is you. Other people don’t live your life, so their opinions shouldn’t matter.”

“They shouldn’t,” I mutter. It’s easier said than done.

“I was taught to believe you’ll never be fully happy unless you’re true to yourself. When I was younger, I thought that was trash my mom said to make me feel better, but watching my friends become their best selves has proven it’s the truth.”

“You amaze me,” I say out loud instead of in my head.

He bites his lip and blushes.

“You must have a low bar for amazement or think my kind of crazy is a source of awe.” He props his head on his elbow.

“There’s so much in you. You could be a life coach,” I say, slightly teasing to ease his embarrassment.

“Great side hustle. Hockey by day—changing lives by night.” He waves his hand as if he could see it written in lights.

“Don’t sell yourself short. I guess I’m the old guy giving you advice not to let hockey consume your life. You’re much more than a hockey player and…” There isn’t a way to end my sentence without bringing down the conversation. Concentrating solely on hockey leaves you empty when it ends. Not that I’m speaking from experience. I’m the last person to dole out advice.

Instead, I change my mind and ask, “Can I see your crystals? But only if you want to show me.”

Caleb assesses me and gets up without a word, so I sit up with my feet on the floor. He retrieves the pouch and empties it into his hand. All the crystals are the same hexagon shape and are about the same length, but they vary in color.

“This is the black onyx,” I say, picking it up out of his palm. “Why did you wear this one today?”

“It was a toss-up between the onyx and the hematite.” He rolls a dark-gray one to the end of his fingers. “Hematite is grounding and strengthens physical stability. I chose the onyx because it keeps me mentally tough. I also wore it for the Boston game because King and his stepbrother, O’Keefe, don’t get along, so I chose one to keep my cognitive energy positive.”

I nod. It’s actually a relief that the feud between O’Keefe and King is personal and not racial. “That makes sense. What do the others do?”

He hesitates as if he’s not sure I’m being serious, but I point to a dark-red one.

“That’s red jasper. It helps with stamina and overall body control and increases strength. I wear that one when I know it’s going to be a long game. This one is a bloodstone.” He hands me a green and red stone. “Going on color, you’d call the red jasper bloodstone, but I don’t make the rules.” He laughs. “A lot of them are interchangeable, so it depends on my mood.Sometimes I pick the stone and sometimes it picks me.” He shrugs.

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